Talking To Myself
by brahdley jims
Summary: I don't really want to end up as a crazy old cat lady who is only visited once in a while by a very distant cousin. Oh, there I go, talking away to myself again. It's no wonder my mirror is the only thing that'll talk back to me. -Cousincest.


**AN: **Hey, it's me again! I suppose this could be considered a peace offering to anyone who is waiting for me to update any of my stories. I know, I've been ridiculously slow. I'm sorry. It's not my fault, I didn't invent exams! That doesn't really excuse me though... anyway. I hope you do enjoy this. Maybe. It's Lucy/JamesII, just as a heads-up if you don't like cousincest. :)

_This is my entry for the Fanfiction Idol competition. I probably won't get through auditions, but oh well :)_

_And it was also written for the 'MASSIVE Challenge', both on HPFC. Hope this is alright!_

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><p>He was dancing with her.<p>

Not me, her. Lily. Lily Luna Potter, who just had to go and poke her snobby nose into everything, dig her claws into everybody's personal business and tear it to shreds with her manicured nails and the tricks up her sleeve.

Tonight, it happened to be my love life she'd decided to make a mockery of.

Lily knew I liked Lorcan Scamander. I'd told her myself, when we were holed up in the Slytherin common room two weeks ago, our weekend spoilt by the angry, incessant rain determined to break down the school's barriers. She'd asked me to spill my deepest secret, and I did, thinking it was alright. She was my fellow Slytherin, after all – but then again, we aren't famed for our trustworthiness. I'd have been better off telling a Hufflepuff, and everybody knows they're the gossipers of the school.

Looking back, there'd been something in the way she asked me that told me she already knew. The slight smirk in her lips, the raised eyebrow. These were typical Lily qualities you couldn't be expected to know of unless you'd known her for as long as I had – a way of telling when she knew something you didn't.

And I was too hung up on Lorcan to decipher the signs.

In the two weeks leading up to the Spring Ball – an idea thought up by the Head Boy and Girl, to promote house unity or something stupid like that – Lily had done remarkably little to try and gain Lorcan's attention. That was how easy it was for her to draw boys in; a few words, a couple of smiles sent their way, and they were captured, stuck like flies to a spider's web. Lily was the spider, of course.

A bright orange spider.

Red hair was overrated, anyway. Well, it was if you were part of my family.

I was sitting here, at a table on my own, watching the love of my life twirl the bane of my existence around the dance floor. OK, so she hadn't been the bane of my existence until tonight, but Lily overthrew everybody one by one. I had been the queen of Slytherin, so to speak, until she came along. She'd humiliated me by taking Lorcan from right under my nose. I mean, really, what did Lorcan see in her? You know, apart from the fact that she was beautiful, and popular, and unfortunately quite clever, and some people seemed to think she was funny. _Witty, _she called herself.

Don't try to make yourself sound more sophisticated, Lily Potter. They're one and the same.

Really, what did she have that I didn't? OK, so I was only average looking, but I'd actually made an effort with make-up tonight. And I had a few close friends, unlike Lily's gaggle of fake friends. I got good enough grades and people laughed at my jokes… namely, me and the old bloke that ran Flourish and Blotts…

"Oh, shut up, Lucy," I muttered to myself, nobody being close enough to hear me and try to chuck me into the 'Incurably Insane' ward in St Mungo's. "You're only making yourself more depressed."

I fished out my mirror from my beaded clutch, flipping it open to rearrange the brunette curls piled delicately on top of my head, a few tendrils cascading down my neck. I really was very proud of what I'd achieved in three mere hours before the Ball started, even if Christina Nott had been responsible for most of it. She'd styled my hair, which she'd referred to frequently in the past as the destroyed remains of a crash site, the only survivors being wild, rabid things. Then she'd done my makeup, light and natural apart from the amount of mascara that I'd originally thought it wasn't possible for any girl to be strong enough to carry on her eyelashes. She'd even lent me one of her designer dresses – I hadn't had one until Christina had come to my rescue. Let's just say I didn't inherit Mum or Dad's ability to organise themselves.

The dress Christina had picked out for me was deep purple and floated down to my ankles, leaving room for my heels to poke out the bottom. It complimented my green eyes perfectly, or so Christina said. I'd never been very good with dresses, or makeup, or any of that girly stuff – the girl I shared a dorm with was my life saver. I never thought I'd say this, but Christina Nott was alright, when she wasn't throwing you casual insults and snarky comments and sarcastic remarks.

"You look gorgeous, sweetheart," my mirror yawned. I'd been glancing in it all evening, non-stop. "Quite a welcome change for my eyes, I'll tell you now."

"Sod off," I scowled at my mirror, snapping it back shut again and shoving it in my clutch. "You're just a bloody voice anyway." There I went, talking to myself again. I really had to stop before somebody noticed.

On the downside, it turned out all that effort had been for nothing. Lorcan hadn't paid attention to me once the whole evening, apart from to say a quick hello to me at the drinks table. Then he was off in a rush to get back to Lily, as if terrified she would be stolen away. It was a valid worry. She was much more desirable than me.

The Great Hall looked stunning, even I couldn't deny that. Contrary to popular belief, a Slytherin can like something even if it's not silver and green. The dance floor was designed to look like a meadow, with daisies and lush green grass and exotic plants flourishing here and there. The walls were draped with gold and pale pink material, decorated with pink and blue and yellow flowers. The numerous tables strewn across the room were similar. Even the air had a kind of gold glimmer shimmering through it. Now, I'm not usually one for these soft, lovely colours and decorations, but it was beautiful. It even distracted me from the sight of Lorcan and Lily dancing together, if only for a little while.

'Sight' was the right word. They really were the picture of the whole event. What was that thing in Molly's Muggle novels she had, at something called prom? Prom King and Queen? I'd always thought it sounded spectacularly corny, but if we had such a thing, Lorcan and Lily would be it. For starters, both were dazzling, especially tonight. As much as I wanted to say Lily's green dress clashed with her hair and made her look slutty, it was perfect for her and showed off her figure beautifully, much to my annoyance. I'm sure she wasn't even wearing any makeup, just a bit of lip gloss.

Well, it's alright for some people.

And Lorcan… well, where do I start? I hadn't been able to tear my eyes off him all evening for more than a few moments, in which I watched Scorpius Malfoy flirting with Rose or Christina shoving some Hufflepuff to the floor at the drinks table. He looked breathtaking. Lorcan, I mean, not the Hufflepuff lying on the floor. His pale blue suit matched his eyes, and he must have been taking notes from Scorpius because his hair was styled upwards in just the right places, whereas usually it just lay flat on his head, his fringe flopping into his eyes. Had he dyed it with brown streaks? He had! Well, it looked even more amazing now. And there was Lily running her hands through it…

Wait.

Lily. Hands. Hair. Lorcan's.

_No._

I let my gaze travel reluctantly to their faces, pulling myself out of my fascination with Lorcan's hair, knowing what I'd see but not wanting to believe it. Maybe I could deny it for a little while longer, just like I'd stupidly been doing all evening…

But no. There was no mistaking Lorcan's hands around her waist, cupping her cheek, touching her. And there was definitely no mistaking their lips attached to one other, lost in their own world.

_Damn._

I stifled a sob as I grabbed my clutch and stood up abruptly, not making any effort to conceal my anger as I stormed from the Great Hall, leaving the music and the beauty and the laughing couples behind me. The cool and quiet of the Entrance Hall shocked me, jerking me back to reality. I should have stopped right there. Turned around and walked straight back into the Ball, grabbed Lysander Scamander and snogged him right in front of his brother and ex-girlfriend/bright orange spider/Lily. To let her know she _hadn't_ beaten me. That I wasn't broken.

But I kept on walking. My feet probably wouldn't have stopped even if I'd wanted them to. Which, at that moment, I didn't. What I did want was to put as much distance between me, Lorcan and Spiderbitch as possible.

So I started running.

I didn't know where I was running. I just took off, up the stairs, around a corner, along a corridor, around another corner, along a corridor that was probably out of bounds. I think I lost my clutch somewhere along the way, and it was a miracle I held onto my sky-high heels. Really, Christina must own these as a joke, I was just beginning to see how ludicrous those shoes were.

Christina. Well, I hoped that the mascara she'd layered on thick wasn't just waterproof but tsunami-proof, because the tears were falling fast and I couldn't seem to be able to do anything to stop them.

Except choke on them, which wasn't very attractive.

Eventually, I couldn't run anymore. I couldn't even remember why I'd started running in the first place. Collapsing into the first alcove I came across, I sank to the floor and let my head fall into my hands, sobbing my heart out. I pulled the stupid heels off, throwing them at the wall in a fit of rage, and it suddenly occurred to me how ridiculous I must have looked at the Ball. All dressed up with no one to impress, feeling like an alien in someone else's clothes and makeup I hadn't even considered before. Like a little girl playing with her mother's smartest grownup things. Beautiful dresses, impossible heels, extravagant hairdos. They didn't belong to naïve people like me. They belonged to people like Lily, who was surely laughing at how much I was losing. I was a whole year older than her and I didn't know how to handle myself at fancy balls and dances. I didn't know how to snag a guy like she did. I'd never even been kissed, for Merlin's sake. What was I thinking, believing Lorcan would go for me instead of the Spiderbitch? They were immature thoughts. Immature just like me.

Which was probably why no one would ever want me, I'd never be kissed, I'd never get married or have a family, and I'd die as a crazy old cat lady with only an extremely distant cousin dropping in every few months.

That was my future because of tonight.

I don't know how long I was sat there before I heard footsteps approaching. Actually, that's a lie. I didn't hear anyone coming at all. They'd crept up on me, which was really very rude of them.

I'd reached the end of the depression scale. Crumpled up on the floor, my gorgeous purple dress getting dirty lying on the dust and ancient stones, the last few tears staining my cheeks and really wishing I had a tissue to wipe up all the snot.

"You hear that, Lorcan?" I had whispered, more furious at him than Lily now. "That's my heart breaking."

"Talking to yourself?" My head snapped up, eyes squinting to make out the figure stood above me. He was male, that was for sure. Even if I couldn't tell the figure was wearing a suit, the rather strong smell of cologne proved it. "That's the first sign of madness, you know."

"James?" I couldn't believe it. Why did he of all people have to see me like this? The whole school would be discussing my mental breakdown by tomorrow morning, if my cousin had anything to do with it!

"Lucy! Well, it's comforting to know you recognise me. You might not be completely gone from this world yet." Oh, yes, it was James.

"It's comforting to know you've been stalking me," I said grumpily, a weak attempt at a comeback. James only grinned, which is always irritating.

"We lions don't stalk, Lucy-Lou. We prowl," he responded, referring to the lion that resembled Gryffindor.

"That sounds even more creepy," I grumbled, wiping my eyes furiously and trying to stand up. I had to grip the wall for support several times, though, and finally sat back down again, not willing to hear James laughing at me any longer.

But he wasn't laughing at me.

He did raise an eyebrow. Isn't it funny how some people can do that, and some people, like me, can't? Lily did it all the time. Al, too. Maybe it was a Potter thing. Was her famous surname another thing Spiderbitch was using in her favour against me?

Nevertheless, James reached out a hand and gently pulled me up, before presenting me with a clean tissue to make myself look half-decent again. Call James what you like – and believe me, I've called him plenty – but my aunt and uncle raised him surprisingly well.

"Thanks," I mumbled reluctantly, reaching up to wipe my nose and eyes as discreetly as I possibly could.

"Actually, I was thinking you could use it to cover your face up. Save my eyes the pain."

His gentlemanly manner had just thrown itself out the window and died.

He chuckled at my fierce glare. I considered throwing the now very snotty tissue back at his face. "I was only joking, Lucy-Lou. You Slytherins take yourselves far too seriously."

I really wished he'd stop using that nickname. It made me feel even more immature than I already was – or at least, had felt since my heart had broken very loudly. And yes, it must have been loud. I couldn't have been the only one to hear it.

Or maybe that was just another sign of my madness. They should have locked me up years ago. I thought I would quite like the 'peaceful' white walls and patronising nurses.

"What are you thinking about, Lucy-Lou?"

It was such a strange question I didn't even noticed he'd used that revolting nickname.

"The recent fall in the already dismal state of our world's economy," I blurted out randomly, as if James could read my mind and saying that would distract him.

He laughed, and for a moment I was actually scared he was laughing _at _me. Since when had I cared what James thought of me? Everybody knew I was mad anyway.

"I always knew you were mad." See? "That's why you talk to yourself, Lucy-Lou."

And then the nickname clicked. It was what James used to call me when we were kids. He was the only person I'd allow to call me that – even my father was resigned to 'Luce' in rare shows of affection. Apparently, once I'd even screamed at Uncle George when he used it, after he'd heard James call to me in the garden earlier. To this day he hasn't dared call me anything other than 'Lucy'. I've always been a very good screamer.

The nickname slipped out of habit over the years, vanishing completely when James went off to Hogwarts. I was nine, and it felt strange for a little while to only be addressed by my proper name because James wasn't there. I was in fifth year now. I'd forgotten all about it.

"Memories coming back to you, Lucy-Lou?" James teased, probably noticing my vacant expression. "I haven't called you that in a while."

"We haven't done a lot of things in a while," I tossed back, and I could tell he was remembering the days when we used to be best friends. Just like I was.

Those days now seemed more genuine than any other days in my life.

"Come on, Lucy-Lou," James said suddenly, slipping his hand into mine. "I want to show you something."

"What is it?" I asked suspiciously, sure he was planning an ambush with Fred to humiliate me or something. It wouldn't have been the first time.

"That would be telling," James smirked, and I rolled my eyes. Of course that was his answer.

Not really in the mood to resist, I let him pull me along to wherever he was taking me, leaving my heels behind where they landed when I threw them at the wall. Christina would be angry tomorrow, and all hopes of friendship probably down the drain, but I didn't really care right now. Shoes weren't my main worry at the moment.

"At least tell me where we're going," I pleaded, as the noise and light spilled out from the Great Hall the closer we got. James glanced over his shoulder and noticed me discreetly inching away from the direction of the Ball. Well, _I _thought I was being discreet.

"Don't worry, we're not going back in there," he promised, squeezing my hand. I decided I liked the warm pressure of the squeeze. And I was only half-wishing it was Lorcan's hand, not James being friendly. "It's much too… pink for me. And Lily-infested."

I nearly tripped over my own bare feet. When I recovered myself, I gaped at him. Did he know all about my whole drama with Lorcan and Spiderbitch? In response, he just gaped back. I pouted, making him chuckle.

"Hurry up, Lucy-Lou." James pulled me outside, into the Transfiguration courtyard, and I knitted my eyebrows together. Did he not feel the cold like normal human beings? Wait. Stupid question. Everybody knew James wasn't normal. "I don't want to miss this song."

"What song – James? Why are we –"

Then I heard a new song begin to play, spilling into our ears from the Great Hall. It wasn't a slow song, nor was it a particularly energetic and upbeat song, but somewhere in the middle. All I knew was that it was quite obviously meant to be very intimate, and through the window I could see couples making their way onto the dance floor, immediately taking up positions practically squished against each other. Lorcan and Spiderbitch were right in the middle of them. I scowled, blinking away furious tears.

Before I could start to dwell on that, James grabbed my hands without warning and pulled me closer, none too gently. I pretended to be angry, but I was still distracted by the perfect couple I knew were probably chewing each other's faces off in the Great Hall. "Easy there, tiger," I half-laughed, letting him take me into the middle of the courtyard.

"Lion. Remember, we prowl," he corrected, grinning down at me. This time, my laugh was genuine.

"Alright, Prowler," I said. "Why are we here?"

He shrugged, glancing for a moment back towards the brightly lit windows of the castle. "I don't know. I just thought you could do with a bit of cheering up. No offence, but you didn't look your best back there in that alcove. In fact, you looked like crap."

"That's the way to make a girl feel good about herself!" I hit his chest, pouting again. It didn't seem to affect him though. Maybe I shouldn't have been smiling.

"I learned from the best," he smirked.

"Yes, I can see Uncle Ron's influences everywhere," I laughed, and he pretended to look offended.

"Not even I am that desperate," he insisted. Then James lowered his voice. "I lied. You really do look beautiful tonight, Lucy."

I blushed, not even sure why. I wasn't used to getting compliments, and for the first time in the evening I really did feel beautiful, even if the comment came from my cousin and I didn't have any shoes on and my makeup was utterly ruined. Oh, and my heart had just been broken, which was a bit of a pain as well.

"Not so bad yourself, Prowler," I remarked, relaxing a bit more as the song progressed.

We were swaying to the music, moving very little. James pulled back slightly, taking my hands and beginning to twirl me around the courtyard. He was actually a surprisingly good dancer. Well, compared to me, who kept tripping over cobblestones and her dress and making a fool of herself, collapsing into giggles every time.

"Just let me do all the work," James said at last, grinning at me being an idiot. It was better than him getting fed up with me.

It wasn't even proper dancing, but it was the most fun I'd had all evening. James kept hold of my hands most of the time, spinning me and twirling me, bringing me back to his chest before dipping me, causing me to squeal with laughter. The music seemed to get louder in my ears as I followed his lead, letting him do anything he liked, pushing out of and falling out of his embrace, doing a ridiculous exaggerated tango across the courtyard. I forgot all about Lorcan and Spiderbitch, forgot all about how cold I was. It was just me and James, letting it all go and caught up in the carefree dancing and the music and the laughter. James had done what most people usually failed miserably to do: he made me feel special. For those few minutes of bliss, I felt like I was the only girl in the world who mattered.

As the song finished, James casually wrapped his hands around my waist and I put my arms around his neck without thinking.

"Thank you," I whispered, resting my head on his chest. Even though I couldn't see his face, I could almost feel him smiling.

"Forgotten about Scamander and my sister?"

So he did know, all along. I was played for a fool. Poor little Lucy, had her heart broken for the first time and the only person she could find comfort in was her cousin. _Hilarious._

I tried to pull away, intending to storm off and not get my legs tangled up in the hem of my dress, but James kept a strong grip on me.

"I promise I didn't want to humiliate you. I did know all along, but I don't feel sorry for you." Well, as well as sticking the knife in he was now twisting it around. Bravo, James, that's the way to go.

I opened my mouth to make some angry retort when James interrupted. Which was a good thing since I couldn't think of an angry retort anyway. "I'd feel more sorry for you if it was Scamander you ended up with at the end of the night. He doesn't deserve you – and you know you'd be top of Lily's kill-at-first-opportunity list if that happened."

I couldn't help but giggle, and I had to believe him. Why not? This was more like the James I used to know when we were kids. Before Hogwarts and girlfriends and interfering Spiderbitches and the irritating thing called 'heartbreak'. Then another thing he said hit me.

"You don't think he deserves me?" I asked tentatively, just to be sure I'd heard right.

"You know, for a Slytherin you just sounded very sweet then," James teased.

"You know, for a prowler you just sounded suspiciously complimentary a minute ago. Are you sure you're feeling alright?" I felt his forehead for a temperature in mock concern.

"Get off, you lunatic!" James chuckled, grabbing my hand and bringing it back down again. He didn't let go of it, though. "I'm serious, Lucy-Lou. Scamander doesn't deserve you. Anyone who makes you cry doesn't deserve to look at you."

I raised my eyebrows at the protective flash in his eyes. I'd never noticed how nice his eyes were, almost golden with flecks of silver in the moonlight. I suppose it wasn't the type of thing you noticed about your cousin. "Hypocritical much? I remember you making me cry practically every other day when we were little!"

"Yes, when we were little!" he tried to defend himself lamely. "Before I –" He didn't finish his sentence, becoming very interested in my left ear instead.

"Before you…?" I prompted. The music had changed to possibly the slowest slow dance in the world without us noticing.

"Nothing," James said. "Forgot what I was going to say." He started to move me gently to the new music, but I stopped him.

"No, tell me. It was obviously something important." James sighed, seeing that I wasn't going to let it go. Clever boy.

"Lucy, I don't want you to… go mental or get really mad or anything…"

"Oh, Merlin, what have you done?" I was instantly horrified. Usually James is proud of pulling pranks and everything he usually does, but if he was nervous about telling me it must have been on a whole new level. "Bloody hell, you haven't _shagged _anybody have you?"

"What? No! Lucy!" Now James looked more horrified than me. I breathed out an audible sigh. I had to ask. "Just listen to me, will you? Then you can do what you like. Run away, scream, cry, laugh in my face. I don't care. Just don't hate me too much. I couldn't bear that."

What in the name of Salazar had caused this change in James? He was never as serious as this.

"Just come out with it, James," I said. "I'm sure it can't be as bad as –"

And then he kissed me.

My initial reaction to gasp and pull away died almost as soon as it flared up. I wasn't expecting this, of all things. James was my cousin! What was he doing? What was I doing, kissing him back? What would everyone think? Anyone could glance out of the window and see us now, spotlighted by the moonlight. But what surprised me most was that I didn't care. His lips were sweet and tasted of strawberries and summer and sunshine, and the only thing I wanted to do was melt into them, drink him up until everything he was, the strawberries and summer and sunshine and those golden eyes and everything else I wanted to learn about him, were all mine. His hand came up to hold my cheek, sending bolts of electricity through my veins. Fireworks were bursting into colour in my head when we pulled away, both breathing hard.

James backed away immediately. "I'm sorry, Lucy-Lou." And then he turned to go, and for some reason that movement of him turning his back on me ripped through me like Muggle gunfire. He couldn't go now. It was unthinkable.

"Kiss me again," I demanded suddenly, making him stop in his tracks.

James stared at me in disbelief, and I looked back defiantly, a brave smirk tugging at my lips. I meant it. I wanted him to kiss me again. Needed him to kiss me again.

Not being one to waste time, he complied, offering me his own smirk. And suddenly, nothing mattered anymore. It was just us. We were the only two people in the world, and _cousins_ was just another useless word nobody cared about. It shouldn't be cared about, when it felt this good. I was so caught up in perfection and heaven that I almost didn't notice my ridiculous borrowed heels dangling from Christina Nott's hand, out of the corner of my eye.

I couldn't be sure, but I think she was laughing.

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><p>please <strong>review<strong> :)


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